my teenage years have been everything

I think we need to normalize the idea of marrying friends. I don’t mean in a “the best romantic relationships come from the best friendships” type way, though I do believe that’s true. I mean in a “I have zero romantic feelings for you, but I would totally spend the rest of my life committed to a future where you are my primary partner and maybe even raise a family together” type way.

Like, I don’t think it should be an aromantic-exclusive option, or a plan B when you and your best friend are still single at 40 and want to take yourselves out of the dating market.

I’ve heard it mostly as that backup plan, that “if I don’t find anyone, I’ll just marry Trish haha”, and I don’t think that’s even what I’m talking about normalizing. That’s a secondary outcome, seen as “giving up” on finding “real love”, and even if a pair of friends go for it, it’s plagued with this general feeling of “sub par”.

What I mean is that marrying a best friend (or having a committed intimate or emotional platonic relationship) should be seen as just as worth doing as marrying someone you’re in love with. It should be normal for teenagers to try as many committed friendships as they do romantic relationships. It should be normal for someone to say “this is my best friend and if everything works out, maybe we’ll move in together later” or “Trish and I have been roommates for two years now. We’re considering adopting soon, or Trish might carry a child!”

And as an aromantic person, it shouldn’t be strange for me to say “I prefer friendship to romance”. People should hear that and nod their heads like “that’s understandable. John feels the same.”

Hell, I see so many people expressing that they prefer their friends’ company to their romantic partner’s. “My friends understand me better and I think treat me better” and they’re expected to go home to this person, to marry and have kids with this person. It’s bizarre to me. Your platonic feelings for your friend aren’t inferior to your romantic feelings for your boyfriend, and if one of them treats you better than the other, I think you should probably rethink which one is your primary partner.

I also find it strange that it’s not more common in poly spaces for a friend to be considered a legitimate “partner”. In a world where friendships were just as likely to bloom into life partnerships as romantic relationships, I think polyamory would be much more commonplace. “I committed to Josephine about a year ago and now we own a home, but I fell in love with Joe about six months ago and we’re all trying to make it work.” Josephine shouldn’t have to worry about her partner leaving her for Joe just because their bond is romantic and therefore the “sensible” relationship to choose over the other.

I’m just ranting at this point, but I reiterate: committed friendships should not be seen as strange and “sad”, but as a legitimate option for a lifetime commitment. Not just for aromantics like myself, but for everyone. It should just be normal.

And not to be presumptuous, but I don’t think I’m alone in this thinking

Prince Harry has disclosed that he sought counselling after enduring two years of “total chaos” while still struggling in his late twenties to come to terms with the death of his mother. The Prince says in an interview with The Telegraph that he “shut down all his emotions” for almost two decades after losing his mother, Diana, Princess of Wales, despite his brother, Prince William, trying to persuade him to seek help. Disclosing that he has spoken to a professional about his mental health, he describes how he only began to 
address his grief when he was 28 after feeling “on the verge of punching someone” and facing anxiety during royal engagements.

Prince Harry, who was 12 when his mother died, says in the podcast that he spent his teenage years and twenties determined not to think about her. “I can safely say that losing my mum at the age of 12, and therefore shutting down all of my emotions for the last 20 years, has had a quite serious effect on not only my personal life but my work as well,” he said. “I have probably been very close to a complete breakdown on numerous occasions when all sorts of grief and sort of lies and misconceptions and everything are coming to you from every angle.”Asked whether he had been to see a ‘shrink’ to offload his thoughts, he said: “I’ve done that a couple of times, more than a couple of times, but it’s great.” (article)

Things I Love About Star Wars

A Non-Exhaustive, Unranked List (Part 1 of ?) 

  • Everyone is constantly being dramatic, while complaining that everyone ELSE is so dramatic or overreacting
  • That time Jedi kids put on a circus show for pirates
  • The fact that Obi-Wan once pretended to be a bounty hunter and did an obstacle course inside a giant Rubik’s cube 
  • How often people drink alcohol especially in the Clone Wars
  • That time Luminara Unduli scolds Obi-Wan and Anakin to stop being in love with each other for 5 minutes so they can fight the damn war 
  • Obi-Wan jumping out of a window
  • Everyone at the Outlander checking out Anakin 
  • Everything Padme has ever worn, especially when it’s on, like, fucking Tatooine and she’s STILL all “hey check out this couture thing I got the designer to hand make for me personally” 
  • The faces everyone on the Council makes after Qui-Gon tells them he thinks the Sith are back 
  • Luke playing with a toy spaceship and then Anakin doing the same thing in TCW because coolness runs in their family 
  • Obi-Wan’s face in Episode 4 when Luke is bitching about how he can’t go to Alderaan
  • Leia sassing off to Darth Vader at the beginning of Episode 4 (a scene which keeps getting better now, thanks Rogue One
  • Vader’s Lava Castle 
  • Maul’s Obitine-Themed Revenge Shrine 
  • Darth Maul coming back on fucking robot spider legs and being more obsessed with Obi-Wan than even me and possibly Anakin 
  • The Darksaber existing
  • The sheer number of capes, including that Krennic has a rainproof one
  • Obi-Wan and Anakin’s robes in the comics and Vader’s cape in the comics being about 600 times longer than they actually are in the films and somehow always in front of a wind machine
  • Hux’s scenery-chewing villain speech before they destroy Hosnian Prime
  • Obi-Wan’s Post-Jedi-Trainee-Hair Hair
  • Anakin’s Post-Jedi-Trainee-Hair Hair 
  • Yoda stealing Luke’s food 
  • Artoo fucking off mid-assignment to take a spa day in that one TCW episode 
  • My wife Satine Kryze constantly yelling about pacifism
  • Chopper’s arm flails 
  • Vader bringing up Obi-Wan in like every third line he has in the OT even after the guy has been dead for actual years 
  • Kanan and Hera helping to run the goddamn Rebellion while raising a couple of teenage kids at the same time, one of whom is an unstable Jedi Trainee and the other of whom is a damn Mandalorian
  • Anakin’s Sand Soliloquy 
  • Count Dooku having exactly zero minutes of time for absolutely anyone ever, especially in TCW 
  • Sidious. Just…everything about him. 
  • The fact that Bail Organa goes out of his way to mention that he’s going back to Alderaan in Rogue One JUST to cause me pain 
  • The novelization of Revenge of the Sith 
  • Han Solo being like “pfft whatever Old Man I fly the Millennium Falcon” with that smug ass smile on his face while talking to OBI-WAN GODDAMNED KENOBI, who is just listening to all of this with this look like “you have absolutely no idea who you are dealing with here, kid” 

Significant Weather Advisory 

by reddit user OtistheWriter

I hate thunderstorms in the Midwest, mainly because they bring with them a threat of real danger. In southern Nebraska we’ve been known to have tornados somewhat regularly, ugly black funnels that drop from the sky and ruin your life. 

That is, if you lived in my neighbors house in 1997, when I was a teenager. I’m referring to a family of three just several homes down. Family friends and caretakers of our corgi while we were on vacation, they helped our street feel like home. Then the storm came and everything changed.

Keep reading

Remind Me Again

written by momentofclarity
artwork by the brilliant @furiouslou

Main pairing: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Rating: Explicit

Chapters: 5/5

Summary:
He loves it when they do this, when they find comfort in each other like this, so close, soft and sweet. They have never really talked about it beyond “Oh so that’s a thing we do now” all those years ago, but it’s also something they have silently agreed not to share with their friends. This is just for them, just like the way they sometimes fall asleep in each other’s beds, pressed closed under the covers, or how they love to cook each other dinner and light candles all over the flat. They have lived together since they were teenagers and over the years they have settled into each other in ways that the other boys just wouldn’t understand.

The romantic platonic friends to lovers AU where they are forced to speak about everything that has always been unspoken.

2

Well here they are: Jeffrey and Sara, the teenaged brother and sister duo of my upcoming animated series TOO LOUD! Due to Jeffrey and Sara’s abnormally large heads and faces, they’re the two noisiest and clumsiest people in the world - much to the dismay of everyone around them!

I created these guys late 2014, with final designs by my pal and ultra-talented artist Benjamin Anders. Then I pitched everything to Dreamworks TV… to very positive response! And for the past year, my team of artist pals and I have been working hard to bring you the most fun cartoon we possibly can. And it’s all coming to AwesomenessTV on a Youtube near you, THIS SPRING! 📢


EDIT!
Hey! Suddenly got lots of premature judging that Too Loud is a rip-off of The Loud House. I’m assuming because the word “loud” is in both titles? Besides that if you see any resemblance, it’s complete coincidence. Both shows are totally different settings, characters, everything. I created TL before LH was even in production, and even then I work at Nickelodeon so it would be very foolish of me to plagairize a peer’s show like that. I suppose despite having TL in the works for 2 years, criticism will happen since LH happened to release first. Hopefully once the actual show is online, folks will see it has nothing in common with LH.

Off Limits

→ Reader x Blind!Chanyeol 

→ “We don’t need you, Y/N. Chanyeol doesn’t need you.”

→ Warnings: curse-words and fondling (slightly smutty) 

Word count: 1,6K


You could feel Baekhyun’s blunt eyes on your back.

His gaze tore through your clothes and skin like fire and you couldn’t help but feel so flushed as you sat and ate your lunch together with Chanyeol as he sat several meters away, being forced to sit with some of the guys in his drama class. 

You had been walking with him and Chanyeol out to have your eyes in the beautiful, yet humid and blazing summer weather, when Baekhyun had been invited to sit with some new acquaintances whom he had met in drama class. He seemed hesitant to leave you and Chanyeol alone, but was eventually pursued and sat down. You smiled at him as you took Chanyeol in the hand and led him over to a small shadowed hill a little past the full tables.

You sat down on the drying grass as Chanyeol tiredly plopped down beside you, the sound of his butt hitting the ground making you groan in empathy. Glancing over at him as he found his own lunchbox before opening it, you smiled lowly as his whole mouth was forcibly ripped open in a big yawn. You chuckled.

“Why have you been up all night this time?”

Chanyeol gasps happily at my question. “The Weeknd’s new album is,” He pauses, his hand coming to rest on top of his heart to add extra effect to what he was about say. “splendid.”

Keep reading

The best part on having a cousin that went evil is that you can always use it against him, no matter the situation.

Sophie: Hey, Cronan, can I borrow Ashwing?

Cronan: No?? You’re too young to ride a dragon on your own??

Sophie: Remember when you kidnapped me and kept me on a cage? :/ 

Cronan:

Sophie: So do I, now, where is Ashwing?

Cronan: Your sister can really get on my nerves sometimes.

Emily: Yeah, she can be annoying sometimes, but at least she didn’t try to conquer the worlds nor brainwashed a bunch of goblins into thinking she is their queen :/

Cronan: I already apologized! 

Emily: It was my turn to help Aira on her newest invention, but my mom asked me to help Sophie with her homework. Can you assist Aira for me?

Cronan: Sorry, but I already have things to-

Emily: Amulet :/ 

Cronan: *deep sigh* Just tell me where to find her.

– 

Naida: Sophie? What happened to your hair?

Sophie: *pretends not to hear*

Emily: Don’t mind her. She’s going through a phase. Teenagers. 

Sophie: I may be on “a phase”, but at least I don’t kidnap cousins nor try to use their family heirloom to conquer the world ://

Cronan, in the distance: It’s been years! I already did everything on my power to fix it! Will I ever know peace??

"Justin was crying, again" Warning: Emotional 💧

Justin was crying, again. This is his second time today. This morning he broke down and didn’t tell me why, but I had to get it out of him. Justin is a strong boy, but he doesn’t feel comfortable with his own life. He feels as though people don’t treat him like a person and it’s true. He was telling me that he feels that people don’t respect his privacy and his space as a man. We went to bed a little early tonight being that he wasn’t in a good state of mind for much social interaction. We are laying down in our master bedroom in our apartment in New York City. There his a huge window in our room on that is on the opposite wall of our bed that looks over the city. It’s our favorite part of our apartment. We have multiple places we stay at, but we really like it down here. Our room is simple the bedsheets we grey and the blanket was thick. It is keeping us warm from the New York frosty air. It’s around 10pm and Justin is sobbing next to me in bed. “Justin.” I say his name in a whisper to let him know I am up and I acknowledge the fact that he is crying. “(Y/N), I just want to have my own space and peace of mind. I love my fans and they are my everything, but I just want to feel like me again.” He says while wheezing to catch his breath. His face is pale and his hands are shaky. This is a vulnerable time for Justin. He must have been up for a while thinking about his problems. I hate that such a beautiful young man like he is has to go through all of these emotions. All of his life from his teenage years until now he had been in the eye of the public. As he was growing up he was being judged by people who didn’t know him personally and it was a tough situation to be in, but he manages everyday. People don’t understand that he is a boy who makes mistakes and is learning his way through life like the rest of us, and we all have a breaking point. I flip my body to my left side to face him as we are laying down. “Justin, I think you should take time for yourself. The people who love you would understand.” I pull the cover up more towards his neck. He is only wear a V neck T-Shirt and a pair of plush pajama pants. He looks so sad. In his eyes you can see that he is unhappy. You can say the life is kind of fading in his eyes. Seeing him this way makes me weak. My heart is sour from seeing him this way. He is physically causing my body to feel weak. “You think we should go away for a while? I will go with you and we can just do our thing for a little. ” I say to him while holding his head to look me in the eyes. I caught a couple of his tear drops on my finger tips. I feel for Justin he just wants to be himself and be on his own timing, but the media won’t let him be. Justin grabs my fingers and kisses them. I start to sniffle and hold my tears back, so that I could stay solid for the both of us. I don’t want to cry and make things a little worse. He is so sad that kissing my hand is the way to show his affection towards me. Justin is showing me that he is happy I am here with him. “I think I’m going to delete my Instagram and just let the fans know that this is temporary and I want to just get some peace of mind from it all.” His voice is kind of muffled into the covers, but I hear him loud and clear. “That is a strong next step for you, Jay. I’m going to delete my account, too and really get the message out”, I add on. I get up to turn the temperature up because Justin is practically shivering. Then I go back into bed with Justin. He’s laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. “So, you are serious about leaving for a while, (Y/N)? ” Justin says while sighing. He has his hands on his stomach and he is in deep thought. “Wherever you want to go, Justin. I’m going to be there with you.” I say while moving closer to him, so that he can feel my body heat. What can I do to make him feel better? I lay there beside him in silence and think about how he may feel. I cry a tear for Justin. This isn’t fair.

A/N: I wrote this from a perspective where it sends a message to us that Justin is an example of the media being to harsh on people. 💔

On The Door Step - part 2

 Parings: Dean x Sister!Reader x Sam

Summary: In 2000, John Winchester opened the door to his current motel room and found a little girl at his feet, sleeping peacefully with a fuzzy white blanket tucking her in a wicker basket. Now, nearly 16 years later, (Y/N) has still yet to find herself in the world of the Winchesters.

prologue     part 1

Warnings: Season 11 spoilers, cursing, violence (I think that’s it)

Words: 1,850

A/N: Just wanted to thank you all so much! I have been in a dark place for the longest time, and knowing that there are you guys who like this story has made me unbelievably happy. I’m not going to bore y’all with details, so here’s the second part. Also, I tried finding the types of motorcycles that are in the Men of Letters bunker, but I could not. If you know, could you tell me? Thank you and enjoy! (tags are at the bottom).

(Y/B/M) = your birth month


A week.

It’s been a full seven days since my last outburst at school. A hundred-sixty-eight hours and counting, and all I can feel is jitters. I. Can’t. Sit. Still.

My leg bounces uncontrollably under the table while my fingers drum on the tabletop. I try to focus on the paper due for my Forensic Science class, but my mind keeps moving on to other things. More important things than summarizing a forensic fiction novel.

My fingers thread through my hair before I push away from my desk and scurry into the hallway. I need some air.

“Cas!” Dean shouts, his voice carrying and bouncing off the tiled walls. I run towards the room in which the voice originates from, finding Sam and Dean hovering over Cas’s twitching body in the library.

“What’s going on?” I question, adrenaline pouring into my veins making my shaky hands worse. “What’s wrong with Cas?”

“(Y/N), stay back,” Sam softly commands, slightly pushing me back towards the table. “Go get water.”

“This is part of what Rowena did, isn’t it?” I try to take a step forward, but Dean stops me.

“Go get some water,” Dean demands before turning his attention back to his friend. I glare at the back of their heads before hurrying to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. When I return Castiel is back in his chair, sweating even more than before, and Dean takes the glass from me and sets in on the table before instructing me to go back and finish my homework.

My hands ball into fists and my teeth grip the inside of my cheeks. Don’t do it. “Is Castiel okay?” I force out, trying to even my breaths. “He’s my friend too.”

“I’m okay, (Y/N),” Castiel interrupts Dean from giving me another order. I push past Dean, picking up the glass of water and handing it to Cas. He most certainly not okay.

Dean takes a seat across from Sam while his fingers tap on the keyboard like there’s no tomorrow. Most likely looking for a case or something that revolves around their current struggle. They try to keep me away from the stuff they hunt and the struggles they have, but I still hear them talking. This time around, they’re battling The Darkness.

From what I’ve heard, this is going to be even worse than either apocalypse.

I sit in the chair next to Castiel, examining him closely as I try to figure out what the hell Rowena did. Even though I never met her, I know she’s a witch and what she vaguely looks like, all thanks to Charlie.

“Listen to this, maybe something here,” Sam says, drawing my attention away from Castiel. Sam’s eyes are on the screen of his laptop as he continues, “Uh, in Denver, three women were at this Cafe Elta, when their waiter- for no apparent reason- stabbed and killed one; one survived and the third vanished after furniture seemed to slide around by itself.” Sam scoffs at the article before glancing to Dean asking, “What do ya think?”

Dean doesn’t answer him, but simply pulls out his phone, calling the local police station. 

I jump from my seat as Sam stands from his. “I wanna come.” I blurt, standing tall in my spot and narrowing my eyes at them. “I want to help.”

“No, (Y/N).” Sam doesn’t even take a moment to think about it and I glare at him for it.

“Why not? I’m going to be 18 in (Y/B/M). And don’t give me that “it’s for your own good” bullshit.”

“You have school tomorrow.”

“Let me skip school, you two did it all the time growing up.” I point out, stepping closer to Sam while he gathers his computer and books. “I want to help save Cas.”

“We don’t want you growing up like us,” Sam says softly, trying to stay quiet so the officer on the phone with Dean can’t hear us. “We’re trapped in this life, you’re not.” He walks away, heading towards his room so he can pack for the trip. I cross my arms, looking to Dean and readying myself to continue the argument with him, but he collects his things and leaves the library with the phone tucked between his shoulder and cheek.

Huffing, I crumble into the chair Sam was sitting in, burying my face in my arms.

I don’t wanna have to worry about their safety. I can’t keep doing it.

“I’m not going with them,” Cas coughs and I lift my head to look at him. “You won’t be alone again.”

I smile weakly at him.


“Let me go with you, please?” I plead, adjusting my bag straps on my shoulder. I pout, hoping I can work my puppy eyes on Dean and Sam, but Dean just smirks at my attempt. He wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into a tight hug, giving me a kiss on the top of my head. 

“Be good, okay?” Sam says, wrapping his arms around my shoulders once Dean had let go. “Don’t get expelled while we’re gone.”

“Okay,” I bury my face in his chest, wrapping my arms around his middle. “Promise you’ll make it back?”

“This is a milk run,” Dean smiles. “We’ll be back before you know it.”

That’s what Sam said last time.

I nod, weakly smiling as I step away from the Impala, watching as the two giants tuck themselves in the front seat. They wave good-bye before Dean hits the gas peddle and speeds off down the road. Once I can no longer see the car, I pick up my helmet and head back into the garage. I push out my 1932 Harley Davidson Flathead before shutting the doors behind me. It’s technically not mine, but it was left here by the previous Men of Letters and since no one was using it, I had Dean help me fix her up.

Securing my bag on my shoulders and making sure my helmet is on properly, I start the engine and it roars to life. The journey from the bunker to Lebanon High School on a map seems very long, but in reality, it’s too short for my liking.

I like school, but I don’t like the people there.

I park in the first spot that I can find and tuck my helmet under my arm as I make my way to the front entrance, watching from afar all the kids that pile in. We’re a small town, not many children my age… not many people actually. About 400 people actually.

Scurrying to my first class, I tuck myself behind my desk and place my book bag on the floor near my feet. I start to day dream, wondering what kind of things my brothers are doing at the moment.

Why can’t I help them? I’m not wanted at this school.

I watch as the room fills with blabbering teenagers, squirming a little in my seat as they glare at me. They know I’m an outsider. They know that my brothers and I have only been here a couple of years. And I feel like they know everything about me.

The school day drags on, and all I want to do is go home and spend my weekend watching movies with Castiel and try so desperately to not focus on the fact my brothers could be hurt as I’m sitting here in a cafeteria munching on Lays chips and observing the behaviors of my fellow classmates.

“Do you have to stare?” A girl sitting at the table across from mine questions, flipping her long brunet hair over her shoulder and glaring at me. “Do you think you’re better than us or something?”

I raise a brow at her, ready to bite back. However, I think better of it and choose to stuff another chip in my mouth.

“What? Not even going to answer her?” The blond guy sitting next to the brunet snaps back. “You’re right, Karen, she thinks she’s better than us.”

“Well you’re not,” the brunet, Karen, hisses, swiveling in her chair to face me. “Your family is poor and useless. Your brothers are nothing but alcoholics in line to die from liver cancer.” She spits and I clench my fists under the table. My body screams for me to lock my fist with her jaw and connect my foot with the blond’s crotch, but I can’t.

My brothers will be pissed.

“You and your brothers are filthy and don’t belong here.” Karen continues and I hold on tight, fighting back the words I want to say, the actions I wish to take. I have to force myself to imaging I’m breaking the mirror in my bathroom, the mirrors in the bunker while chanting, I can’t. I can’t. I can’t-

“Aah!” I glance up from my lap, watching as the window panes break apart and fall on top of the teens closest to them. The kids wearing glasses toss them off their face, the glass in the lenses breaking and cutting their cheeks. The students scream, running for cover under the balcony, protecting them from the raining mirror shards that fall from the roof.

I gasp, ducking out of the way and hiding under the table. My eyes connect with Karen’s before they fall to her arm that’s sliced open from the glass. I wince, pulling away from the break in the table where a few fragments slipped through and stuck to my shoulder.

The glass stops falling, leaving the cafeteria floor sparkling like a child recklessly tossed glitter while they were pretending to be a fairy. A teacher makes his way to aid Karen’s wound and another teacher begins to sweep a path to my table. She offers her hand to pull me out, but I’m too stunned to take it.

I did this. The ceiling was never mirrored. I did this.

“(Y/N), C’mon,” the teacher says, and I pull my eyes away from the mirror fragments. I can’t bring myself to take her hand as the burning from the open wounds in my shoulder scream at me.

I did this.

What’s wrong with me?

“We need to clean your shoulder, come out.” The teacher demands, and I feel tears slip out of my eyes. She takes it as a sign of my pain and assures me everything will be okay. But these tears are not due to the pain in my shoulder, they’re because I’m scared.

It’s not going to be okay. If Sam and Dean find out what I did, they’ll hate me. They’ll push me away. They’ll kick me out.

They’ll leave me.

The teacher grabs my hand, having enough, and pulls me out from under the table. She helps me to my feet and walks me to the nurses office while I sort through my thoughts, trying to plan what to tell them if they find out what happened. They’ll defiantly find out, but what if they think it’s not me. That’s possible right?

I don’t want them to leave me.


Tags: @straightasdeanwinchester

Next

Because of the election I’ve been thinking a lot about my teenage years. I come from a predominantly white wealthy area. I initially started to think about how so many of my classmates have grown into their racism and become replicas of their racist parents. Then I started to think about how some of these people used to be my friends and how I used to be so frustrated all the time with them. Not because they did something racist but because of how carefree they were and how they never understood why I didn’t do everything they did. They never understood what it was like to be one of a handful of brown people in a sea of white people and how every single one of your actions becomes a representation of all brown people. I was a generally closed off person growing up and I still am because I never wanted to make a mistake or give the “wrong” impression. I now wonder a lot how much more fulfilling my life could be if I was in an environment that allowed me to make mistakes without unreasonable repercussions. A few of my poc friends from high school were able to be more carefree in college. I wish I was too but I wasn’t because I unfortunately never found that comfortable environment until the end of college. But by that time everyone was done being carefree and adulthood came knocking. It’s like I have this huge regret but it’s not a regret. I know looking back that I made the best possible choices at the time but yet my life feels so flat all the time. And it just makes me sad. Idk if this makes sense so let me know if you’ve gone through or are going through something similar.

Tyler Seguin

“ (Y/N)? (Y/N) ! Hey! Wait  (Y/N/N)!”

Your heart in your throat and stomach at your feet. Flashbacks ripped through you while the man you hoped to never see again became closer to you.Y you picked him up and kept walking faster hoping to lose the man you never wanted to see again in the crowd of people.

***FLASHBACK***

It was after prom night you and Tyler were sitting on the roof above his bedroom.

“I’m really glad you came back for tonight, it means a lot to me, I know you are under a lot of stress and pressure right now.” you said playing with the tiara you won tonight.

You and Tyler had dated right through high school, so it wasn’t a huge shock to anyone that you two had one pro king and queen even though Tyler wasn’t really enrolled at your school anymore.

“You thought I would miss this? Your crazy Beth. You know I wouldn’t even with everything. I still want you to be happy. Plus my mom would have been pissed if I didn’t come too.”

You laughed, “She would have been for sure. I knew you would have tried to come but you’re starting all the stuff for the draft soon. I didn’t know if you would have been able to make it with all that.”

“I leave soon,” Tyler said not meeting your eyes. You knew he felt bad about leaving you back in Brampton after everything you have been through over the past 4 years. “But until I leave I am all yours and you are going to be all mine.”

You just smiled enjoying the night.

“ (Y/N) you okay?” Tyler asked you could hear the concern in his voice.

“I’m just worried about what’s going to happen after this summer ends. I’m going to college and you could be in god only knows where.”

“Beth, together for ever, remember. We have had that promise since we were, what? Eight?”

“I know but things are changing? And we were eight, everything was less complicated back then.”

“Hey look at me.I love you and nothing is going to change that. I meant it when I was eight and I still mean it knows at eighteen. Together for ever. I promise.”

“Together forever Seguin. I’m holding you on that.”

“Hey, I give you my full permission to hit me if I break that promise.”

“I’m holding you on that one too.”

“I know you are.”

“I love you Tyler.”

“I love you too.”

And in that moment everything with Tyler felt right.

———————————————————————————–

Stuff happened that night. And at the end of summer you left for college and Tyler left for Boston. Over the first month he was gone he rarely called or texted you by the second month it was like he went MIA.

He called you one day but you missed it because you were in a lecture and boy do you wish you haven’t had missed that call.

“Hey (Y/N), it’s me. Listen we really need to talk. Um, geez okay. I think it would be best if we just went our separate ways. You deserve better and I won’t be able to come home a lot anymore. They took me (Y/N)! I made it! I’m on the roster for this season. They said they saw great potential in me and I could be a real asset to the team! I’m really sorry Beth I didn’t want it to end this way between us, but I think that it’s better for the both of us if we go our separate ways you in college and me in Boston I just don’t see it working for us. Be (Y/N), I know you’re gonna do well in school and probably go farther than I ever would have! Good Luck!”

****FLASHBACK OVER****

You actually had intended on calling him that night. You had just found out that you were pregnant and you knew right away it was his. Who else’s could it be? You never got the courage to call him and tell him.

You dropped out of college to have the baby. Your parents had been so mad that you kept the baby. Saying that you weren’t going to be able to handle it. They turned their backs on you. The only people that supported you where Jackie and Paul. Tyler’s parents.

****FLASHBACK****

“Hello?”

“Hi Jackie! It’s (Y/N) I was wondering if you had a minute so we could talk?”

“Hi Sweetheart! Ya of course! Whats up?”

“Um I was wondering if we could meet up for coffee or something?”

“I’m not busy right now if you want to meet up…, Is everything okay?”

“Kind of. I’d rather talk to you about it in person.”

“Okay, that’s fine I’ll see you soon?

“Okay, great see you soon.”

——————————————————————

“Jackie, I’m pregnant.”

Jackie said nothing. The silence became so uncomfortable it made you want to vomit.

“Is it Tys?”

You looked down ashamed. “Yes.” You whispered unable to meet her eyes.

“Does he know?”

“No. Only because he broke up with me. I don’t know what to do. And I’m not ready for him to know. Jackie please don’t tell him until I’m ready.”

“What have your parents said?”

“They kicked me out. And all my stuff because I can’t get rid of the baby. I would never forgive myself.”

“I know sweetheart. Hey, I’m here for you. I’ve got you covered.

****FLASHBACK OVER****

” (Y/N)? (Y/N)! Hey! Wait  (Y/N)!“

Your heart in your throat and stomach at your feet. Flashbacks ripped through you while the man you hoped to never see again became closer to you. You knew you should have said no, coming here tonight was a mistake.

But how could you say no? Your sons favorite player was his Dad. His dad that he had never met. But all he wanted was to watch his favorite player. His favorite player that he looked so much a like too, even at five he was a mini-Tyler from looks to personality. You picked him up and kept walking faster hoping to lose the man you never wanted to see again in the crowd of people.

You made it out to the parking lot before you felt someone grab your arm. The grip that felt oh so familiar. The one that was always there for you when you needed it. The one that disappeared so quickly.

“Bethany, please I just want to talk.”

You set your son down who immediately hid behind you with a tight grip on your right leg, every time. It was always the right leg.

All you could think to do was slap him hard. You knew it had to have hurt him if your hand had immediately turned red and stung so bad. You clenched your fists trying so hard not to hit him again in front of Grayson.

The silence was so uncomfortable. You were just about to pick Grayson up and put him in the car when Tyler finally spoke.

“I knew that was coming, ya know. I think that’s why I always avoided coming to see you when I came back to Toronto. You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Ya well I wish I could say the same about you but,”

“You look good.”

“What do you want Seguin?”

“What’s his name?”

You debated on telling him and staying or picking Grayson up and leaving. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

“Hi Buddy, whats your name? I’m Tyler.”

Grayson’s grip just became tighter as he stared at the man crouched down in front of him.

“Go ahead honey you can tell him.”

He peaked his head out from behind you, and you immediately saw Tyler’s expression change.“Grayson”

Tyler stood up. “He’s mine isn’t he.” The tone of his voice gave away it wasn’t a question, but a statement.

“I think you already know the answer.”

“Can we go somewhere and talk, please. I think I deserve an explanation.”

You just laughed. “You don’t deserve anything. YOU broke OUR promise. Don’t ya remember.”

“Bethany please.”

You thought for a moment. “Fine, where do you want to meet.”

“There’s a coffee shop down the road.”

“Okay, I’ll follow you.”

——————————————————-

The three of you all sat at a back booth in the corner of the coffee shop.

“How old is he?”

“Five.”

You watched as Tyler leaned back and thought for a moment. “The night after prom?”

You nodded.

“How did your parents take it?”

“Not well.They kicked me out.”

“Why didn’t you call me then? I would have helped…. How did you manage?”

“Don’t get mad.”

“I won’t get mad, I just want to know.”

“Your parents. They helped me with everything. And I asked them not to tell you. I just, I just didn’t know how to tell you because I wasn’t ready to tell you. I was so young and confused.”

You looked over at Grayson who had fallen asleep leaning on you. Tyler noticed too he was already handing you his jacket to put over him before you could even try to take tours off.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. And (Y/N) ?”

Beth. The name you hated so much, but never hated it when Tyler called you by it.

“I want to be in his life.”

“I know, and I was prepared for that possibility.”

“Why are you out here anyway?”

“I got relocated for work. Listen, I should really get him home to bed. I’ll give you my number and we can work something out.

——————————————

You did.

At first, it started with small visits and Tyler watching Grayson if you had to stay late at work. Then it became longer visits which lead to you and Tyler spending more time together. At first, you thought it was an act for Grayson and for a few months that’s what you convinced yourself it was.

But you realized it wasn’t. You didn’t realize how much you missed Ty until now.

It took a while for you to be able to trust Tyler again, but after a few months, it came back along with new feelings.

You eventually spent so much time at his place that he asked the two of you to move it with him. You were finally starting to feel like a family for the first time.

One night you were sitting with your feet in the pool enjoying the quiet night in Dallas when Tyler came outside and sat down next to you.

"I know it been over a year since we ran into each other and honestly, I’m glad we did. I love having Grayson in my life and you back in it. I’m not proposing to you but I want to give you this ring because it’s my promise to keep you and Gray in my life forever. Because I love Grayson and I love you, and not those teenager I love you’s. I really mean this one Beth I love you with everything I’ve got.”

“I love you too Ty. I really do love you. I’m glad your back in my life. And I’m glad that Grayson apart of all this too.”

Tyler put his arm around you and you put your head on his shoulder remembering all that old times that you used to do this. But this time it felt different. A good different, as in there is no place you would rather be than right here right now.

Teaching was always everything I was meant to do. It was never about money or status, but true love, the challenge, the incredible teenagers who walked through my life and taught me empathy, depth, reflection. I have lived a blessed life of teaching and caring for others. How they have given back in words, hugs, visits, letters, lifelong friendships, and beautiful memories. I have a large family of former students now. Had I looked back at that 6-year-old self teaching lessons to her stuffed animals, I would still say, “Yes, this has been your life’s work, and hasn’t it been so worthwhile!” To be a teacher is such a humbling honor. Each day, I recalibrate, relearn, listen, understand, coach, laugh. It’s a rich life indeed. A small classroom can appear limited, but how expansive it is as the launching pad for so many lives. When someone asks why I chose to be a teacher, I just smile now. Teaching is, at heart, the art of growing and supporting and loving people.

Life as a teacher // Rhapsodyinblue45

Poetic Stories Writing Prompt for Teacher Appreciation Week

@denmysterywoman

This is my asexual valentine’s submission.
—————————————-
As some of you may have guessed, yes we are both teenagers, or young adults I should say. I am Skylar (me on the right) and I have been dating this wonderful and handsome man named Scott (on the left).

I am asexual, I’ve figured myself out not even a year ago. But despite all of that this man always loved me regardless of my lack of sexual attraction. Even with this highly big difference in sexual attraction and activities, it’s been the most wonderful 4 months of my life sharing my love, life, everything with him.

Teenage years and young adults are the two biggest periods where the libido and sexual activities reach their peak. To anyone who’s scared that they’ll never find a loving partner who can accept their asexuality, or to all the gay aces or lesbian aces out there who are either teenagers or young adults; I tell you to not lose hope.

Indeed, you will find love that doesn’t need to be sexual, you will find romance that doesn’t need to be sexual. Stay strong, believe in yourself and do not invalidate your asexual identity because of someone else.

ireumeun-jungshook  asked:

How much do you think someone's environment affects their amount of anxiety and/or depression and what advice do you have for younger people like teenagers who feel powerless to get away from these places when they're experiencing anxiety or depression wherever they are at? I have been a fan of yours for around 6 years and would like to thank you for being a positive role model in my life. Thanks for everything AJ. :) <3

I’ve always struggled with the argument of nature vs nurture. I have no answers, but I know finding my own forms of healthy outlets got me through the worst of situations. Books were a way for me to escape my environment and feel peaceful. Video games helped me feel in control. Search for whatever helps you feel the most capable during times of chaos. 

Reunited And It Feels So Good

Originally posted by showandwrite

Request: ahhh, thats awsome!! okay, so the reader and parrish had something while his time in the army, but it didn’t really got serious. now the reader moves to beacon hills because of a job and she somehow ends up in his cop car at night and they do it in his cop car. ;) 

Author’s Note: I am so excited to finally get this up! I had so much fun planning this out and writing it, so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed creating it! Here ya go c; AND I LOVE THE TITLE I CAME UP WITH, JUST SAYING! <3 Dear Lord, I am dirty…

Warnings: Smutty smut smut ^.^ and language…also, a lot of dirty talk (lol sorry, not sorry)

*******************************************************************************************

I walked down the street, heading back toward my new place. I was taking my time, enjoying the warm California night air. It was dark, being close to midnight, and I probably shouldn’t have been out alone, but I could take care of myself. My years in the Army had taught me how to defend myself rather well, so I wasn’t worried.

The moon was high in the sky, stars twinkling in between the few clouds. I watched the wind rustle the leaves on the trees as I made my way past, just taking in my surroundings and trying to learn everything I could about this new town. I heard a car getting closer, figuring it was just someone driving past, maybe some teenagers that were heading home from a party. When it slowed down, I got a little nervous, picking up my pace. 

“Ma’am?” a familiar voice asked, making me turn around. I let out the breath I was holding when I saw that it was just a cop car. “Everything alright? Can I ask why you’re out so late?”

Keep reading

Clinging to This Hating Game 1/?

For the @prompt-a-klainefic blog’s 2017 Reverse Bang

Link to the art by @datshitrandom (I love it!)

the prompt:

Kurt and Blaine couldn’t stand each other in high school, maybe one was a jock/cheerleader and the other a nerd/glee clubber. Or they were bitter rivals for competition solos if they were both in glee club. Now they both live in NY and their friends set them up on a blind date, not knowing they went to the same high school.

I did expand the prompt a bit, and I expect it to run about 5 chapters (maybe 6…). I should get one up every 2-3 days, if the universe cooperates (although Speedogate II has already put me a bit behind, lol). 

I think here are a couple of other authors writing the same prompt, so look them up too!

High School AU, Cheerio!Kurt, Jock!Blaine
Rating: Explicit
Warnings:  some bullying and homophobic language, teenage sex
Word Count: ~4600

Thanks to superbeta @mshoneysucklepink who knocked me around a bit! Everything wonky is my fault.

AO3 link

Chapter One

Santana Lopez, Brittany Pierce and Quinn Fabray were not easy friends to have, but they were loyal. Quinn had plucked him out of the sight lines of the school bullies in freshman year and found him a place on the cheerleading squad. By sophomore year, they had even joined Glee club with him. Kurt had been sure at the time it was so Quinn could keep an eye on her (now ex-) boyfriend - who happened to be Kurt’s step-brother Finn, and Rachel Berry, but Kurt appreciated having them around. And on top of that Quinn and Santana could really sing, which was great for the glee club. And what was good for the glee club was good for Kurt’s college applications.

Of course the bullying didn’t stop completely - it was still the middle-of-nowhere Ohio - but a few football players even joined glee club, and for Kurt it made things a little better. Now that he was heading into his senior year of high school, and he still hadn’t so much as kissed another boy, he needed Quinn’s help with one last thing.

Keep reading

Picture Perfect (pt. 5)

PT. 1 | PT. 2 | PT. 3 | PT. 4 | PT. 5 | PT. 6 | PT. 7

Reader x Yoongi

Plot: After finding yourself in the same situation day after day, a stranger with a camera happens to change up everything with just a snap of a button and a lot of misunderstandings.

Genre: Drama/Romance

WARNING: sexual assault

(gif to rightful owner)

Count: 7,740

A/N: I wrote this in less than two days when normally it takes me… awhile haha. The beginning is suuper fluffy (no spoilers though) and the end it gets super messed up. Why did I write this? Let’s hope there’s not too many errors…

“No, But I’ve Kissed You With It.”

I didn’t really sleep that night.

I wasn’t flustered or over-thinking what had just happened, though. I just felt sad more than anything. I felt sad because I could never have a normal night out with my friends. I felt sad because I was never going to realistically achieve my dream of becoming a doctor. I felt sad because I knew my love life was non-existent – and I especially felt sad because the only guy that did pay attention to me was a freeloader who didn’t actually like me. The worst part was that it was a Saturday night, which meant I didn’t have work in the morning and I’d have to face him.

How awkward. I hated confrontation, almost more than Yoongi. But mixing both of them together was a dangerous game.

When I did wake up, I stared at my ceiling for what felt like forever – dreading coming out of my room. I knew he was right there on the couch. There was only a thin wall separating us, really, and I prayed he had just left in the middle of the night.

No, you don’t, I sighed deeply.

I considered falling back asleep and enjoying my day off, but I knew I was just trying to procrastinate. Rolling out from the sheets, I looked down to see I was still in my clothes from yesterday.

What a wreck.

A part of me wanted him gone, but then again I had no one. The company sucked – he sucked – but it was better than what I previously had. I mean, sometimes he was nice. He had that going for him after all. He’s also not bad to look at, a small smile played on my lips briefly, before returning to the default frown I held and I shook my head. Though I tried to dismiss whatever just went through my head, I couldn’t deny it. He’s not that bad at kissing, either. Perhaps, just maybe, he had forgotten what happened last night. My heart dropped at that thought though, but I didn’t think about it too hard before I started towards the door.

The squeak of the hinges seemed dangerously loud, even with the TV that was playing in the next room over. He’s not gone, I breathed a little. I didn’t dare to call out to him though – even if I wanted to, my throat felt tight. I ended up lowering my head and quickly pacing to the kitchen to start coffee. Passing by the living room, I glanced to where he normally slept on the couch.

He’s gone.

My throat tightened more, and I tried to ignore it by thinking, “why did he leave the TV on” and, “when did he go”. I clenched my hands, the palms still achy from last nights abuse. I winced slightly, opting to reach for the remote that was close by to turn the television off. Turning back towards the kitchen, I sighed deeply again to try and compose myself. Why do I feel so disappointed that he left? Of course he would – I would.

I really should have stayed in bed.

If my throat was tight before, it was strangling me now. On the island counter, out for full display, was a box of donuts.

Cautiously, I moved around it, my eyes boring into the cardboard. Carefully, I began opening the lid, afraid to breathe. Why? It’s just pastries. I closed my eyes before I was able to see anything. Why are you so nervous? Why are you always so damn -

“Yah, you turned off my show.” Yoongi’s voice scared me, my eyes springing open to stare at the donuts. “I was watching that, you know.” I didn’t know what to feel. I was emotionally drained. I wasn’t breathing. “Hey, are you okay?”

I didn’t know how he had done it, or why, but spread out in the box were the donuts – some cut to fit into the word, “sorry”.

“Why?” Was my first word. I didn’t know what I was asking though.

I heard him cross to the couch, sitting on it. “I’m not good with words.”

“Well you just spelled one.” I finally looked up at him, my heart aching as my eyes landed on him. I’m so emotional today.

“I go out of my way to do something nice, and this is what I get?” His lips thinned, eye’s squinting. His hair was messy, a little all over the place. “Not that I expected a thanks, but I mean, I did expect a thanks.” He looked tired, like he also hadn’t slept much. “Hello?”

I cleared my throat, looking away, “Ah, thank you. You didn’t have to.” I closed the box, “There’s nothing to be sorry about.” Is that true? I couldn’t answer my own question. “Did you want some?”

“Yes?” He answered sarcastically, breaking the ice-thin air. Instead of feeling surrounded by a cloud it felt warm now. Better. “Can you just bring them over here and set them on the coffee table? I don’t want to get up.”

I frowned at him, but did as he said. “The coffee table is so far from the other -”

“Then sit on the couch with me.” His face kept straight, “I don’t take up the entire thing.” I only frowned deeper.

Sitting the box down, I curled up in the corner of the opposing side he was on, leaving as much space as possible between us. He immediately reached for the donuts, pulling out one that was part of the “Y”. Yoongi took a large bite of it, his jaw working. I still felt awkward, not wanting to grab one let alone move from my tight position. It was uncomfortable, but I felt better wrapping up into myself.

“You don’t want one?” He asked, looking over while licking his lips. I shrugged, looking away as quick as possible. You can’t even look at him? Pathetic. “What’s wrong? You’re quiet, it’s weird.”

“Shut up.” I rolled my eyes, instantly reaching for what was part of the “S”.

“That’s better.” I heard the smile in his voice. I hid my small smile by shoving the doughnut into my mouth. “Wow, you were hungry.”

I glared over at him, swallowing. “And that’s a bad thing?” He shook his head, reaching into the box for seconds. We ate in silence, my knees still hugging my chest.

I didn’t have much of an appetite, my mood still low. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him much either. Why are you acting like this? There had to be something to offset what was happening to me – why I feared him leaving so much. I closed my eyes, head leaning against a cushion, and trudged through my memories. I kept hitting dead-ends and walls before a face flashed through my mind.

Jinwoo. My first boyfriend.

We had dated for over two years as teenagers. Though we were young, we always promised to marry each other, that we’d have kids, that we’d grow old together. Looking back at it, it seemed cheesy. Everything about us screamed “gooey couple”, and we were naive to becoming adults and graduating. At first I was confused – he was a beautiful memory. Then again, it’d been six or seven years since we had separated.

Separated. I opened my eyes in time to see Yoongi finish another doughnut. He left me, I felt a boulder fall onto my chest, making it hard to breathe again. I remember.

The night of my seventeenth birthday Jinwoo had finally convinced me to have sex with him – since I was too nervous before that. The whole “I’m old now, it’s going to be fine” motto kept surging through my veins. In the end I had woken up to an empty bed and a short text message saying “Thanks, see you around”. Confused, I tried calling him and the only voice that greeted me was his voice-mail. I texted him an endless amount of times, asking him what he meant – begging him to reply.  After two weeks of ignoring my calls, not texting back, and even avoiding me at school, he finally messaged me.

How did you not catch that I was cheating on you this entire time.”

I called his best friend, desperate for an explanation. All he did was chuckle and say “I mean, he did get what he wanted.”

“What do you remember?” I finally spoke, my eyes drifting from my hands to his confused face. “From last night.”

He swallowed quickly, “Enough.” I nodded. “And I’m sorry. That was… dicky. I know I should of probably just left but -”

“No, it’s okay.” I interrupted with the words still on his tongue, “You were drunk and those things happen. You didn’t hurt me or anything, so it’s okay.” My nervousness prompted me to grab the next part of the “S”.

“I don’t think it is.” He leaned back in the couch, “I heard you crying.” I paused, not knowing what to say. “I couldn’t remember if I had done something, I couldn’t sleep.”

My hand finally reached my mouth, “That’s… embarrassing.”  I took a bite, trying to distract myself. “It wasn’t because of you. I don’t even remember doing that.” I tried to laugh. “Thanks for saying thanks though, that’s the first time you’ve said it to me, I think.”

“Sorry if I said some weird stuff. I was -”

Really drunk? I figured.” I look at him, taking another bite. Yoongi’s eyes were straight ahead, his hands clasped as he rubbed his thumbs together. You look so exhausted. “It was kind of cute.”

A blush took spread across his cheeks; his thumbs halted. “Hmm, try creepy.”

“No, I’m serious.” I smiled, setting down the rest of my doughnut, “It was more creepy that I kind of enjoyed it.” I mumbled the last part, embarrassed. Did you just really say that? “Ignore what I just said.” I looked down at my hands again.

“No, what? I didn’t hear you.” I looked up, relieved. “Just kidding.” He smirked playfully, my jaw dropping. Oh, fuck you too. I went to turn before he reached out to me, “Wait, Y/N.”

“What.” Blushing, I mumbled. I cannot believe you just did that.

“You have some icing…” His hand touched my face, his thumb that was just fiddling with his other now dragging across my bottom lip, “…right there.” Yoongi’s voice was almost a whisper, shaking slightly a lot like his hand was. I was frozen in spot, mouth slightly agape. What is he doing? Why did he do that? His thumb slowly left my lip and his hand followed before he brought them both to his own. Opening his mouth, he placed in thumb inside and sucked on it softly.

My breath hitched as my heart began beating faster. Whoa, what the fuck. My eyes left his fingers and rested on his. Instead of the usual dark and stormy presence they took a hold of in situations like this, they seemed cautious – nervous even. Never the less, though, they were still gigantic; engulfing me. What do I say? Do I even say anything? Should I act like that never happened and continue on with my life knowing this?

“I’m sorry,” his voice quivered a touch. I had never seen him like this, leaving me dumbstruck, “I think I missed some.”

Oh.

I expected his thumb to touch my mouth again, but it ended up hooking under my chin and pulling up as he gently leaned forward. Suddenly I was thankful that earlier my knees had dropped, the space had shrunk to next to none as his lips landed on the corner of my mouth, kissing the spot.

Yoongi left his lips there for a second, not a breath fanning from his mouth. His thumb left my chin, his hand’s warmth disappearing from my neck, and he dropped it to his lap. He leaned back, blinking rapidly like he was trying to concentrate. “I’m sorry, that was wrong.” He let out a frustrated sigh, “Why do I keep doing this to -”

“Hey, it’s okay.” I reached out, touching his clenched fist, “It’s all okay.”

Why is it? I leaned forward, copying what he had done except this time our lips met. Why is it he’s so manipulative?


“Are you going out tonight with Taehyung and Hoseok and all o’them?” Yoongi asked, coming out of the bathroom as he dried his hair, “I’m honestly only going because Namjoon is – he’s not, well, at least he doesn’t act young like the rest. They get annoying sometimes.” Nodding, I sifted on the couch so I was laying down on it.

It hadn’t seemed that long since he had bought apology donuts for me, but we were almost nearing three weeks since it had happened. Why are you counting? It didn’t seem like a significant event, but I felt like I had broken down one of the many walls that Yoongi surrounded himself in. He doesn’t like you.

“You’re quiet today…” he disappeared, but the sounds of a drawer opening and closing gave his spot away, “It’s weird, you should stop.” Yoongi’s voice was farther away yet it still echoed in my head.

Every time he talks it does.

“Hey, it’s weird you’re caring – you should stop.” I retorted, sighing as I placed my phone on my lap. “You’re also really talkative. It’s annoying.”

In the time that had passed – him still mooching off of me – nothing had happened between us. Not even a glace or something said that seemed flirtatious in any way. In a sense I could tell he was just trying to stay away because of what he had done, but even while I did respect that I felt… lonely. The only thing he seemed to like was his camera.

He poked his head out of the door, frowning, “Aw, now you’re just being a dick.” Turning off the light, he opened the door before coming to the back of the couch and kneeling as he rested his arms on the back. “Is it that time of the month or something?”

“Whoa that was sexist, buddy.” I shook my head as I shot him a look of disgust, “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“No, but I’ve kissed you with it.”

“I’m…” I stared at him. Yoongi’s face didn’t so much as crack a smile and his eyes shined playfully, “….not going to try to even reply to that. You’re disgusting and twisted.” Rolling my eyes, I picked up my phone and punched the pass-code in, “And ‘FYI’, no, it’s not – but thanks for checking in.”

“Jesus Christ Y/N, it’s just a joke. Chill the fuck out.” Yoongi scoffed, standing up, “I’m just trying to lighten mood, make you laugh or something.” He turned, starting towards the bathroom again.

Don’t leave.

“Yoongi stop.” I clicked my phone off, swallowing thickly, “I’m sorry I’m acting bitchy…” The comment about kissing me threw me off guard. I was finally getting used to nothing, and there he goes being the sneaky, little bastard. He tried to make you laugh, that’s it. He doesn’t like you.

It stayed silent for a moment, his back still turned to me. I was about to call out to him and apology again when his head turned slightly towards me, “Did you want to ride with me?” I tried to hide my smile, but he didn’t let me answer before turned on the light in the bathroom again, “Be ready in forty-five minutes… and look nice – my car is too nice to be treated that way.”


“I thought I said forty-five minutes, not forty-five hours.” He tapped his knee impatiently as I opened the passenger’s door.

“It was just an extra ten minutes? We’re fine, no one’s even going to be there yet. Did you text Taehyung?”

“Haha, no. That’s your job. I got enough of him just by sleeping at his house for two nights.” I closed the door and he drove off, the engine making a small rumble. “Did you really need those extra ten minutes? It would have literally made no difference.”

“Hey! It matters.” I mumbled, still buckling, “You have to match your shoes or you just look ghetto.”

“You’re ghetto anywa-”

“Min Yoongi.” I warned as we stopped at a light, “Don’t you dare finish that sentence. Who’s the one being dicky now?” I glared, the light bouncing off his skin as he turned his head. My tall stance faltered as his eyes met mine, my senses suddenly becoming acute to the cologne he wore. Stop, he doesn’t like you.

“Oh shut up, I’m just giving you crap.” He chuckled, and the red turned to green. “You look great either way.”

My heart took a punch – or at least, that’s what it felt like. Stop. I bit my cheek, leaning my head on the glass. He doesn’t like you. I closed my eyes, breathing in deeply. Why do I keep saying that, anyways? ‘He doesn’t like me, he doesn’t like me.’ Why would it matter if he did or didn’t? I felt the car come to another stop. He doesn’t care if I like him or not…. I opened my eyes, glancing at him even though I knew he was focused on the road.

Right?

“I won’t drink much tonight.” He blurted out, his eyes shifting to me briefly, “Well, I mean, you’re getting a ride home from me right?” I nodded. “Then I won’t drink much since I’m driving.”

“Okay…? Thanks? I mean you could and then we could call a cab or something. They exist.” He’s acting weird. I eyed him, biting my cheek again. He’s acting too nice. “It’s really no problem, they’re cheap too since I don’t live far.” He doesn’t like you.

“No, no. I like my car better. Plus I’ve been trying to drink less.” The words fell out quickly, “It’s a bad habit, and I… don’t want it turning into an addiction….” His voiced reeked of excuse-making. “Yeah… those are bad, you know?”

“Okay, I’ll take your word.” I breathed out, stiffing a chuckle, “You’re acting super weird, are you okay?” He nodded, my fingers finding each other to fumble. “Ahh it’s okay though.” Yoongi’s eyebrow raised questioningly, and I shook my head. It’s really cute…

“What was that?” The car pulled in the parking lot, ‘Did you just say… ‘It’s really cute’?”

“N-no? Why the fuck would I say that?” God damn it all, you said it out-loud. “That’s not even remotely cute. What… what even is your definition of cute? Because that’s not mine.” Stop rambling, oh my God. You are making a complete fool of yourse-

“You.” He parked, shifting the gear and turning to me as he leaned into his seat. His smirk only deepened as my jaw fell open.

“Are you flirting with me?”

“I’m not the flustered one,” He opened his door, shrugging, “and I didn’t start it.” Scoffing, I left his car. What just happened.

We walked into the bar in silence, him trudging in front of me. The sun had only just set a few minutes ago, and twilight leaked into the windows of the building. The honey color was a nice changed from the retro lights, and instead of pop music bleeding from the floors the walls echoed soft rock. I should come early more often. I looked at Yoongi in front of me, his figure walking towards the booth where we normally sat. He’s so small. Scratching his shoulder, he slid in the seat. He seems so delicate. My body slid in right next to his.

“Why are sitting right next to me?” Yoongi’s voice interrupted my thoughts. Some thoughts those were. “There’s the other side? I know the bench is rounded but you have all this room.” The tone of his voice was serious; annoyed, but a small smile hid on his lips. “Unless…”  Dipping his head into my neck, his hand rested on my thigh as my heart skipped a beat. “…you want our own room.” His lips ghosted across my ear and I could feel my cheeks heating up. I can’t breathe, I swallowed hard as his thumb pressed into my skin and began messaging it.

Out of the corner of my eye, a flash of brown hair caught my eye, “Hey Hoseok, we-we’re right here.” I cleared my throat, leaning away from Yoongi, “You’re early…” He doesn’t like you. I felt Yoongi stop hovering over me, but I was too afraid to look back at him. What was that?

“Yeah, I guess.” Hoseok slid across from Yoongi and I, “I got ready quicker than I thought I would.” He grinned.

“Unlike someone.” Yoongi grumbled, and I could just feel him eye-rolling at me. Thanks.

“At least I look nice, unlike someone.” I slid out from the booth, “I’m going to the restroom.” I need to get out of here.


By the time I had returned from the bathroom, everyone had seemed to rush in. Any trace of the sun was gone now, and to my dismay the guitars had been replaced with the electronic beats once again. It wasn’t crowded yet, but glancing at the time of my phone told me that people were only just starting to arrive. Casual Saturdays. Saturday’s weren’t as busy as Friday – of course, but the amount of people that came was still overwhelming. I wove my way through a crowd, smiling as Taehyung called my name as I arrived back at the booth.

“It’s a little crowded.” He smiled sheepishly, rubbing his neck. “Hoseok had to get up so that others could fill in.” I shrugged an, ‘It’s okay’ and looked at Yoongi who was at the edge of the seat, on his phone. He’s ignoring me, the little shit. “We can mash in closer if you want -” I’ll show him..

“Oh no, it’s okay. No one has to get up for me.” Yoongi glanced up curiously, “I’ll just sit with Hoseok, he’s right on the edge of the seat, anyways.” I smiled, that’s right. “Hobi, can I sit on your lap? I won’t crush you, I swear.” I leaned towards him, looking right into his widening eyes.

“Oh – uh, yeah.” He rubbed his neck, “Yeah, of course.” He sat up straighter to make room for me as I took a seat on his thigh. This wasn’t weird – I had actually done this many times before when we had a lot of people at the booth. Just not with Yoongi here.

“Thank you so much, I don’t know what I’d do.” I whispered into Hoseok’s ear flirtatiously right before I glanced at Yoongi. His eyes met mine, before he raised his eyebrows and returned to his phone in a bored manner. Oh, come on. This is ridiculous. Hoseok nodded quickly, his cheeks brushing against my nose as he smiled softly.

I’m sorry Hobi.

Taehyung’s ordered rounds came along with the waitress that Hoseok had previously flirted with. I tried not to look her in the eye because oh wow, that’s awkward but sadly she caught attention of ‘her man’. Her eyes lighted up for a second before landing on me and the position I was in, turning them into daggers as she squinted and quickly clicked away in her heels. The twelve drinks turned into only two as some took seconds – one being named Yoongi.

I thought you were driving? Dipshit.

“Who wants these? I’ll call the waitress over and get another round but… you know.” Taehyung tilted his head towards the shots, his hand already holding one.

“I will, I haven’t had one yet.” Reaching for one, my hand stopped, wheels turning in my mind. “Hey, Hobi…” A grin spread through my face, both of my hands now grabbing the last two. “You should have this one.” I placed it in front of him.

His jaw slacked, “No, no. You know I don’t drink. And I don’t as in I never.” He raised his hands defensively.

I moved my lips to his ear, “Oh please?” My vision wandered to Yoongi again, who was – finally – staring at me with a working jaw, “Come on. Just one, it’s only this one. It won’t do anything.” I placed mine into his hands and my fingers moved down to lightly wrap around his wrist and rub circles into it. “Just one.” I saw Taehyung’s eyebrow raise at me.

I’m sorry Hobi.

I’d never once seen Jung Hoseok drink a shot, let alone touch liquor, in the entire four years I had known him. He was the complete opposite of is best friend – Taehyung never missed a chance to get alcohol in his system. In a way I felt very concerned, since I didn’t know what would happen if Hoseok did end up getting drunk – I bet none of us did. His head tilted back and the drink was gone in a second, the clank of the glass following quickly after. The table stirred, everyone except Yoongi and Taehyung cheering on Hoseok.  I felt the skin beneath me flush, an embarrassed grin flooded his face.

Surprisingly, it was really easy to get Hobi to continue taking shots through-out the night. The first few were harder, but after there had been time to let the booze seep into his veins he loosened up. After every drink he took, Taehyung would shoot me a look of concern – and they only grew worse as the number went up. Yoongi had disappeared somewhere, claiming he had to go to the bathroom, but it’d been close to fifteen minutes.

“It’s really hot in here, huh?” Hoseok shifted under me, shrugging off his jacket.

“I’m sorry,” I awkwardly leaned away from him, “I can get off of you, there’s seats now. I’m probably not helping you out much.”

“No, no,” he grabbed my waist, stilling me, “you’re fine.” A blush crept down my neck, my shoulders shied into my body from the touch. His hands stayed there a second too long, before sliding down my body and resting by his legs. I distracted myself, my eyes surfing through the crowd in hopes of seeing someone I knew.

Namjoon.

I spotted the tall figure leaning against a wall near the bar stools, talking to someone who was covered from view. I felt myself looking from person to person, each a stranger. Who exactly am I looking for? I wasn’t in the best shape, I had taken a shot or two more than Hoseok and was suddenly thankful that they didn’t have a high percentage or I would have been really wasted at this point.

“What’s wrong? You’re tense.” Taehyung asked, scooting over so he could sit directly in front of me. “Are you okay? You’re not really like yourself.”

My eyes met his, “Oh yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking about work.”

“Well don’t, it’s a night out with your friends.” He smiled as he rested his chin on his hands, “Don’t think of stressful things. Just enjoy yourself, okay?”

Easier said than done, “I will… Thank you Tae.” I grinned, trying to seem better. What am I even worried about?

“I’m going to find Namjoon or something, I’ll be right back though.” He pointed to nowhere, sliding out and leaving the booth. I looked around the table, seeing two other people – a girl and boy, whose names were Jongin and Kyrstal, I think – having a conversation amongst themselves.  Just Hoseok and I.

“Hey, did you mean that?” Hobi asked, tilting to side so he could look at me, “About being fine and everything?”

“Yes…?” I knitted my eyebrows together, only looking him for a second before adverting my eyes into the crowd.

There. Right there.

They landed on someone sitting on the bar stools, close to one the workers. His blonde hair was only visible for a second before being groped by a hand with long nails. The two were close for having a conversation – too close really, and I squinted, trying to see what was going on.

He’s making out with someone.

“Are you sure you’re sure?” Hoseok’s playfulness helped ease the sting of jealous that stabbed my chest. I looked cautiously at him, my head turning quickly so I couldn’t look at what was happening anymore. Why would he do that?

“Oh yes,” I tried not to grit my teeth; it was hard to breathe all of a sudden, “I’m positive. You wanna go dance or something? I’m getting bored.” Why am I freaking out? I knew he didn’t like me. I kept telling myself he didn’t and I still got let down. What the fuck is wrong with -

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask that,” He chuckled, his teeth on full display, “You never dance. This should be fun.”

“I have two left feet.” Breathing in, I began calming myself down again and I got up from his lap and slid from the booth as he followed closely behind, “Sorry about that.”

“You’re all good.” Laughing, he stood behind me, breath fanning across my neck, “I’ll help you.”

I led the way to where a mass of bodies were, passing by Yoongi. Our eyes met for a half a second, before the witch hands were back on him and I looked over just in time to see it was the waitress from earlier. Oh God, you should have seen that coming. The flashback of her glaring at me from earlier played in my head, and I only quickened my pace as I tugged Hobi behind me.

The music was much louder where everyone was, and the floor pounded against my feet to the beat. I blinked hard, swaying backwards into Hoseok as the last shot I had just taken finally hit me. He can have that slut anyways. Hoseok turned me around, a look of ‘hey, are you alright there friend’ flashing through his features.

Why should I care who he kisses?

I nodded a yes feverishly quick, my eyes finally focusing as I grabbed Hoseok by the neck and attached my mouth to his.

He doesn’t care who I kiss.

After a second of shock, he kissed back. It wasn’t like I had never had a rough make out session with someone before, but I was still taken aback from the dominance he held since the last couple of times I had kissed someone it was more… soft. Stop thinking about it.

It ended as quick as it had started, and only when I took a step back from him did I notice that he was just as drunk as I was. His pupils were blown up, lips slightly swollen from what had just happened, and his stance wavered. I look him over quickly, thinking, damn, he’s so much taller than me. I knew I wasn’t wearing the highest heels I owned, but I never knew that Hoseok was this tall. He was so soft spoken and even though his personality was big it wasn’t giant. I had always thought of his height like I thought of him – child-like.

A new song began through the speakers, making me come back to reality. “I love this song,” I shouted. It was a lie, of course. I don’t know what to say. He grinned, leaning back and bouncing to beat. It actually is hot in here. I bopped my head awkwardly, since I’d never really danced when we went out. You were always such a wimp. I wasn’t off beat, but I certainly didn’t have any tricks up my sleeve.  

Hoseok’s hands sneaked around waist, pulling me closer to him as his body kept moving in a steady rhythm. “I said I’d help you.” They traveled down to my hips that made them sway in time with his. Your dance classes really payed off. My own hands found themselves in many places. One snaked up his arm and then moved to the back of neck, while the other trailed up his torso before stopping near his heart and then going back down again.

With every beat we got closer and closer together, before barely anything was between us. His lips had gone to my jaw, sucking and biting wherever he could. My fingers threaded through his hair, tugging at the strands hard enough to made him groan sometimes.

We had turned throughout the dancing, leaving me to face Yoongi now. Oh yeah, he’s here. He turned just as I focused on him, his eyes shooting from mine to my neck and then Hoseok’s hands, before traveling back up almost squinting. That’s right. I could see him swallow, being turning back to whoever was sitting next to him now. Probably another girl.

The thought of that made my step falter, he doesn’t like you. “Hey, Hobi. Where’s your coat?” I tipped my head and spoke in ear, earning a questioning groan. “I don’t want you to lose it.”

He stepped back from me slightly, his hand coming up to my neck to rub a sore spot as he examined it, “S’at the booth,” his words were starting to slur, “Come with me, I don’na lose you.” He wrapped an arm around my waist, beginning to walk surprisingly steady for his condition. That’s so sweet of him… Something nothing Yoongi would never do.

Why am I comparing Hoseok to him?

We passed Yoongi, and I avoided eye contact though I could feel him burning holes into my back the entire time.  Reaching the booth, we met Taehyung and Hoseok sat down as he picked up his coat.

“I’m’a go to the bathroom.” I spoke into Hoseok’s ear, earning a nod, before I trudged off trying not to step on anyone’s feet.

After washing my hands, I stepped out of the restroom. So fucking hot in here. Looking to my left, I remembered the backdoor was right by the bathrooms, for the smokers. Sighing, I wove through a few people to find the exit to just step outside for a minute because my make up was about to melt off at this point. Pushing the door open and stepping outside, my breath hitched from the sudden temperature change. I hugged myself, closing the door as I leaned against the wall of the building. The music shook the walls and the smell of booze was overwhelming even out here.

“Hey, ar’you ditchin’ me?” A voice whispered into my ear before a hand clamped down on my mouth. I didn’t even hear the door open. I tried pushing the person away from me but they had wrapped their other one around both of my arms that hugged my chest. “Shh, s’just me. S’Hobi, don’t worry.” The hand removed itself from my mouth and wrapped around my chest like his other one, “Just wanted to spook you.”

The cold air and the sudden shock sobered me a touch, and I wasn’t as unsteady anymore. Why are we both outside? “Hoseok, let’s go back inside…” I started towards the door, shivering slightly.

“No, s’fine ri-i-ight here,” he sang, “not as many people, jus’us.” Pulling me back from the door he began further into the alley. “The music’s loud still.”

“But Hobi I’m cold.” I tried, still pushing against him. “S’chilly out -”

“You’re okay.” He huffed, stopping finally as he unwrapped his arms, “Isn’t it fun out’ere?” Grinning, he pushed me back up against the wall, towering over him. He grabbed my jaw, lifting it up as he leaned down and pinned me back with his hips.

I turned away, “No Hoseok,” I ducked into my shoulder, “Let’s go inside, right now.” You’re scaring me. The alcohol was rapidly leaving my system as this kept happening, my heart began pumping quicker the longer he kept cornering me. “Let’s find Taehyu-”

Hoseok’s hand returned to my mouth, “Where’d m’nickname go?” His hips dug me harder into the wall, “Just were saying, ‘Hobi’ a’sec ago.” I began feeling a hand at the hem of shirt, slipping under it and running it up my stomach, “N’you don’t feel cold.”

He’s not letting me leave.

The palm on my mouth barely let me breathe, let alone could I cry out. “Y’look nice in your skirt.” He whispered into my neck before he returned to the spot from earlier. I was too scared to move. I didn’t even know where I could go – he’d catch me before I could go anywhere. He’s just drunk, snap him out of it.

My mouth was finally uncovered, only for it to be again by Hoseok’s. The hand under my shirt traveled higher and pushed my bra over my breasts before it came back to grope one. I shivered from the coldness, and began wiggling underneath him to try and get out. I grabbed his shoulder’s attempting to push him away from me. This is useless. I began kicking my legs to try and shock him, but he only ended up spreading my feet far apart with his. His fingers began prodding at the waistband of my skirt, slipping into it.

Terrified, I shook my head fiercely, my fists punching his chest and his neck before he growled and grabbed them with one hand and kept them above my hand. My heart felt like it was going to rip out my chest – I didn’t know what to do. Finally his lips left mine to go to neck and I attempted screaming out but my throat was so tight it came out as a sob. A sob? I’m crying?

The finger’s left the waistband of my skirt to only touch my thigh and trail up my leg. “St-stop. Just-t stop.” I banged against him. “Let’s find Taehyung.” My vision wasn’t clear anymore, tears welled up in my eyes. His palm rubbed through my thong; my hips trashed while I tried to close my legs. It felt like that happened for hours, and I almost decided to give up since he wasn’t moving. I couldn’t move him. The tears from my eyes started streaming down my cheeks.

“What the fuck?” Someone shouted, and then Hoseok suddenly left my body and I heard a something hit the gravel. “What the fuck are you doing?” Thank you, thank you thank y-

I suddenly was on the ground too, my weight dropped down since the only thing that was holding me up before was Hoseok’s hips. I instinctively covered my hands, sobbing into my hands as I curled into a ball in the dirt.

“Shit, shit, shit…” Taehyung’s voice came closer to me, “Y/N are you okay? What – I –“His voice cracked as he leaned down tried sitting me up. Once I was in his arms I fell against him and hid my face in his chest as I heard another string of profanities from… Yoongi?  

“Hey, hey. Shh, please calm down – it’s okay, you’re okay. It’s safe now, I’m here.” Tae soothingly rubbed my back as he tried helping me up. “I’m taking you home… Hey! I’m driving her back!” He shouted behind us. “We’ll get your stuff, you’re going to be all good, I promise.”

He’s crying.


I don’t remember the ride home. I only remember walking the steps up to my apartment with Taehyung’s help and closing the door behind us as he kept saying soothing things. He didn’t push for anything. From there he took me straight to the bathroom, telling me to take a shower and try and relax in the water. Taehyung left me in the bathroom sobbing, his face a mixture of sadness and hatred. Ripping my clothes off, I threw myself into the bathtub; quickly turning to turn on the shower head.

I didn’t stand up – either because I didn’t want to or if I didn’t know if I could, I don’t know. I sat under the streaming water, crying still but not as much. I don’t know how long I was in or how long I was going to stay in there for. The initial shock of it was finally gone. It’s done, it’s over. Taehyung came for you – helped you. My heart slowed down along with my breathing. So did Yoongi, he came for you. He - A sob wrecked my body.

He doesn’t like you.

My bathroom door opened, closing with a click, “Y/N?”

“Tae-Taehyung?” I tried stiffing my weeping. Why did that make you cry again? “Is that you?”

“It’s… It’s Yoongi.” Why are you making me cry again? “I’m sorry if you wanted Taehyung. He just left. I have your stuff, I went inside and picked it up.” His voice was hoarse, like he had been screaming.

“No,” I sniffled, “it’s not disappointing me.” I reached for a bar of soap, fumbling with it in my hands. “Were… were you just screaming now?”

“You bet.” Sad humor rippled through the words, “I also busted my knuckles pretty bad beating the shit out of him.”

That only made the sob I was holding back come through, my hands abandoning the soap as they hugged my knees, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so fucking sorry this is all my fault.” I leaned against the tile. Why did you do all this? You’re so stupid, this is exactly why he doesn’t like y-

“Why are you saying sorry?” Yoongi’s voice cracked, “Why would you ever say sorry for that? Because of my knuckles? They’ll heal, I did that on my own. That was for you -”

“No not for your knuckles!” I wept, “I did this on purpose, this is all my fault.”

He was silent for a minute as my sobs filled the room, the sound of water not even being able to dull them. “You purposely made him molest you?”

“Wh-what? No! No, that’s not… that’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean?” I was expecting his voice to be angry, annoyed – disgusted. “Please tell me.” His voice was soft instead, careful like he was going to break me. You’re worn-down.

After finally catching my breath, I started, “I mean, as in, I-I wanted him to be all ‘up on me’. I know he doesn’t dr-drink and I made him t-take shots so he’d be like that…” Stop hiccuping, Jesus Christ.

“Why?” Yoongi asked, but I didn’t answer.

“Why?” He asked again.

“Because…” I hiccuped, “I really wanted to.” Just tell him, it’s now or never. “Because I really wanted to makeyoujealous.” My last words shot out and I hid my face in-between my knees even though we couldn’t see each other.

“You wanted to make me what?” Peeking out I saw his silhouette sit down next to the tub. “Just spit it out.”

“Jealous.”

Instead of replying, I heard him sigh. You fucking blew it. I reached for the soap near my feet, beginning to try and clean myself as best as I could from my position. At least you’re not crying anymore. At least you’re not lying anymore. At least it’s just… out there. Thoughts kept racing through my mind. Please say something – anything. I placed the bar on the soap tray, and my finger’s went to my hair and I fingered through it.

“I’m dying.”

“What…?” I asked, freezing.

“I’m dying. I have cancer.” He spoke softly, but the words seemed to crush the room. “It’s all in my pancreas. We didn’t catch it early on.” The shadow of his head dipped, hands coming up to run through his hair. “It’s only… what, maybe two years? If I’m lucky. I’m actually lucky my hair hasn’t fallen out yet or -”

“Why are you telling me this?” I rubbed my face, “Why did you bring this up to me?”

“The reason,” I could barely hear him over the water, “the reason I came here – why Jimin got so upset about me leaving – is because I went to the doctor and after that I left a voice-mail for my family and left town. I… I don’t know why I left. I couldn’t stay. The doctor told me that since it was late it’d be a slim chance that I’d live. And to hell if I’m going to just sit in a chemo room all day when I know I’ll probably die.

“He also told me to try and spend my days doing stuff I love. ‘Live life to your fullest’, he said, and then I was out the door. It’s not like I had anything here when I came – and that’s why I chose it. I could forget that I a chronic patient, and no one would know, either. I could be myself again.”

“I still don’t know why you’re saying this all.” I reached for the curtain, only my head peeking around so I could look at him. “Out of everyone, you tell me?” He looked at me, his shoulders slumping.

“He said to do things I love. That I enjoy. Do something that makes me happy.” Yoongi shook his head, shifting towards the wall so he could lean against it and still look at me. “That also means being with people that make me happy, that I enjoy.”

“That you love?” My own voice was so small, but he heard it and a small smile took his lips as he nodded.

“I was trying to think of a way to say it better, but, after tonight…” His gaze shifted to the floor, hands clasping together, “I guess it was something to say to you other than, ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘it’s okay’, you know? And when you said you were trying to make me jealous – oh, that made the icing on the cake.” He tried to laugh.

“You know, what I said a couple weeks ago about wanting to spend time with you was true,” his eyes looked into mine, “At first I was really needing a place to stay – but honestly, how do you think I wear these nice of clothes and own that car?” I bit my tongue; my cheeks lifted, “I could really spend the night at Taehyung’s if I wanted. I could even afford my own place.”

“So you’re a freeloader?”

“…Yes? But I have a good reason.” Smiling, his ears turned red.

“And what would that be?”

His expression evened out as he looked at me again, fingers carefully raising from his side to brush a strand of soaking hair behind my ear, before it retracted.

“I can’t get enough of you.”

Long Way Home - Part 3

Part One | Part Two | Part Three


Tommy hangs around for a short while once we reach the house to make sure I’m settled. He starts a fire, happy to demonstrate once I explain the reason I have no idea how to operate the damn thing is because it was too warm in the states to need a fire, not because the only heating I’ve ever known was controlled by a thermostat in the hall…

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